


Lesson Compensation

by Cookie_Queen



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: 2013 Ryosaku Express, F/M, Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie_Queen/pseuds/Cookie_Queen
Summary: She was going to teach him a lesson he'd never forget.i.e. Sometimes Sakuno teaches Ryouma.
Relationships: Echizen Ryouma/Ryuuzaki Sakuno
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LacusDate (BunnyBean)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyBean/gifts).



> "Lesson Compensation" was written for The Ryosaku Exchange 2013. I wrote as my first real experience with fanfiction, but I don't particularly feel a strong desire to edit / rewrite. 
> 
> Ryosaku was the first fanfiction I ever read, and as a result, the first I ever wrote. It will always hold a special place in my heart, despite moving on from this fandom. I will forever want to be whoever Sakuno grows up to be.
> 
> I am posting this fic after all this time because I was randomly reminded of it, after trolling through my emails from a decade ago. I wrote this for Newbie GK, which is such an incredibly writer, and I totally botched up their request (I'm sorry!)
> 
> However, I would like to dedicate this to BunnySakuno, who I used speak with pretty regularly, but have since lost contact with. I am unsure what their new username, so I'll continue to refer to them as BunnySakuno... They were such an incredible mentor, beta, brainstormer, and gave me my first real work opportunity. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart.

Lesson Compensation

For: _Newbie GK_

 **Canon Knowledge:** Anime only

 **What I want to receive** : fic only

 **Prompt:** Sometimes Sakuno is the one teaching Ryoma

 **What I want to see** : less shy Sakuno

 **What I don’t want to see:** explicit lemons

He always got there five minutes later than their meeting time because he had learned from the past four years, she’d be at least fifteen minutes late. It was okay with him. She’d apologize, smile, and then give him a bento. He normally practiced by himself for a bit, but today he lied on a bench with his eyes closed.

It had started his freshman year of middle school when his father stuck him with teaching Sakuno Ryuzaki and her annoying friend to play tennis. At the time, it had been a one-time thing, where Ryoma was to give them some pointers, but after meeting consistently for a month, Ryoma found himself falling into a routine that he didn’t mind.

He wasn’t particularly tired, but his recent troubles with sleeping were most certainly related to the match he had coming up. He hated doing these kinds of exhibition events, but any practice was good practice, and these were better than the events on the school circuit. He did like participating in those matches themselves, but the unnecessary parties and exposure were not for him. It all added to a stress load he hadn’t ever dealt with well. The cummulative effects of his frequent trips out of the country, his school work, and his weekly meetings with Ryuzaki was becoming a bit too much.

Occasionally, he thought about just dropping out of school and continuing his career without the added baggage, but his mother really wanted him to finish. Even his idiot father finished school before going pro.

Under lock and key, he would maybe admit that he stayed in school to see the two long braids dangling in front of him and the smile that was shown seemed to be just for him.

She had piqued his interest one day. It was unusual, since Ryoma wasn’t intrigued by anything, or at least anything that wasn’t tennis-related. He’d always been naturally smart, so all the learning in school bored him past death. He disliked most things because they didn’t help him with his goals. For whatever reason, he found himself drawn to her kind spirit and relentlessly committed attitude. Which was probably the reason he stuck around to teach her tennis the first time his father flaked on him.

There was something about her which lead to something between them. 

Them--something more than friends and less than whatever else ends that continuum. That intrigue allowed him to keep himself exactly where he was, no farther and no closer. People constantly asked what they were, but he always responded with the same indifference.

“We go together.”  
  


He knew that the other side of the continuum existed, but he liked the way things were right now. They weren’t scary and overwhelming, but simple--and uncomplicated. He found it unnecessary to explore any more. 

“Ryoma-kun, good morning!” a feminine voice stirred him slightly. He saw a glimpse of a jacket similar to his. “Look look! I finally got a jacket like yours and it’s all thanks to you! Four years of your hard work.”

Four years. It seemed like such a long time when they were twelve, but as sixteen year olds, they were almost completely different people. Although they both maturing both physically and emotionally, Sakuno still gleefully skipped around like a ten year old.

“And it’s all mine.” She hugged it. “Would you like to see it with on me?” She fidgeted slightly. “I forced you to show yours to me when you received your jacket.” He tried for a non-committal head nod. 

She quickly slipped it on and buttoned it close. “It fits perfectly, and I love it.”

“Hn.” He really was trying to be emotionless, but he had to fight a smile watching her her get so riled up over it. She kept skipping around, dropping her tennis bag at his feet. “How about we try to make sure you keep the jacket with some practice?” She stopped, slowly turning her head.

“Yes! That-That would good.” She carefully took it off, placing it cautiously on the bench beside him. She looked at him expectantly, but quickly glanced at the jacket. Her hand was quick, awkwardly placed on his shoulder. He looked up, meeting her eye line which flashed something he couldn’t recognize. Happiness? It was a hint of that, but something more. Fear? No, he’d see that numerous times. He mulled it over, until he felt something quite soft. 

It was a quick affair. She pulled her hand over his cheek and bent slightly, closing the short distance, before whispering gratitude and placing her _soft_ , soft lips on his cheek.

“Thank you Ryoma-kun.”, she said once again as she retreated. Her cheeks slightly flushed, completing her glow. He tipped his cap down, hiding anything his face might reveal.

“You have to keep your endurance up. 30 laps around the court.” He normally joined her, but he knew she’d keep stopping if someone wasn’t “guarding” the jacket. He also felt a little light-headed right now.

Ryoma did not expect that. He knew he had a hard time telling her exactly what he felt for her, but she just taken uncomplicated to very complicated with one soft press of her lips to his cheek. His skin still burned a little, and he barely resisted touching it.

He inspected the jacket slowly; it looked similar to his in color and make, although it was cut slightly closer to the body. Ryuzaki was written on the back in big bold letters, instead of Echizen, and the tag was still placed on the inside. He chuckled to himself slightly. He hadn’t been as giddy as she was about his jacket until she asked him to wear it. Although he was in complete assurance that he’d make the regulars (four time world champion for the under 12 division doesn’t just give you pictures), he was really only really happy about it after she asked him to put it on.

He remembered that when he put his on for the first time, he was the only freshman to make the middle school team that year. His goal had never been to work in the group setting that his team was, and it eventually even took precedence over training with his father. His heart dropped slightly.

He glanced up to see Sakuno keeping form as she ran her laps around the court. She would start training with the regulars, and sooner or later she’d make new friends, ones that she’d do amazing things with. He’d be out of the picture sooner or later.

“Ryoma-kun, I’m done!” Sakuno ran over, almost territorially watching Ryoma’s last touches on the jacket. He tipped his hat once again to cover his face.

“Okay, let’s get started.”

She was breathing hard, wiping her brow on her wristband. She was glad she wasn’t wearing her jacket right now, it would have gotten so sweaty. She was sitting low into her stance, although she should have known to be slightly higher up. The ball flew and she dashed, hitting it square.

But he was faster, unfortunately.

Back on her court, she laughed slightly, knowing this was an impossible situation to win, as it always had been, but just one point was enough for her to know she was good enough for the regulars. She had scored one point once in the last four years. It had been right before the try-outs, where she somehow broke his defense by accident. She nearly vaulted herself over the net to celebrate with him, but he didn’t take being slightly broke by a rookie lightly.

She had been obliterated the rest of match. He did buy her a can of Ponta as an apology for overreacting.

Spending the amount of time she did with Ryoma made communication with him a lot easier. Before, it had always been missed signals, misunderstood notions, and frustration beyond all compare.

Now, they had their own language and they were both quite fluent in it. She could tell the difference in his indifferent shrugs and non-committal answers where no one else could, proving beyond a doubt that Sakuno was not quite as dense as most believed her to be. With this secret language, she had a definite handle that Ryoma and her had something. It was a simple but complicated something, and neither of them had said anything official on the topic, but she knew she had further complicated it with that small kiss on the cheek from earlier.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful for what she did have with him, but always wished she and him could proudly proclaim that they were just that--together. As much as she had grown over the last four years, it was still hard to say words like that; to communicate properly. Additionally, in the world where Ryoma barely was able to communicate like a normal human at all, it be was becoming even harder in their secret language.

She had gone over that move in her head for a while now, rolling it over, thinking about how effective it would be, but she saw Ryoma’s reluctance to open up to it. She knew she’d have to back up, but lately she was thinking about backing out completely.

She’d been in love with Ryoma since she was twelve years old, but if he wasn’t going to be in it full heartedly, then she wondered, why do it at all? She was at marrying age, and she had been approached several times by several different boys seeking less than perfect intentions, which had always been fended off by most of the tennis team (although she secretly thought that Ryoma was the mastermind of most of the attacks). But if he hadn’t done something directly, then what was she supposed to do? Get down on a knee herself? Sometimes...

Sometimes, she really wished she could teach him a lesson.

He was breathing deeply, nodding his head over. It was time to stop.

She nodded, gleefully skipping towards her jacket. She quickly yanked it on, and then pulled out the bento she created for him. It was a weekly ritual, where she talked about her week, and he ate her bento, nodding occasionally to ensure she understood his interest.

She handed him the box, and he stopped mid-movement when their fingers brushed.

“Is there something wrong, Ryoma-kun?” She knew it was going to be slightly awkward if they stayed in mid-movement. His hand continued to reach for the box and the chopsticks in her other hand.

“So I taught you how to play tennis. Teach me something in return.”

She looked quizzical, reaching for her water bottle. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve given up my Saturdays for four years. I’ve skipped tournaments and seriously neglected my studies, and now you are in the regulars. I want some compensation.”

“Compensation?”

“Compensation. Teach me something.”

“I make you bentos, why isn’t that compensation?” She felt a little angry. These boxes weren’t made in ten minutes! She slaved over them the night before, it was the leading reason why she was late most Saturdays.

“You used to give them to me before we started this arrangement. Teach me something different.” His words were muffled over the contents in his mouth, and Sakuno wrinkled her nose. She placed her hands in her jacket pockets, feeling the inside of the soft fabric.

“Fine.” She sighed, leaning back. She grabbed her own bento, which was much simpler than his. “What would you like to learn?”

He gulped quickly. “No, that’s not how this is going to work.” He bit into a rice ball. “You have to pick something.”

“What?!” She jumped up.

“You heard me.” He licked the remaining rice pieces off his thumb and forefinger. 

Underneath his cap, his eyes glinted a little. She knew he was teasing her slightly, but he was serious about learning something. She was grateful, because for all that he did for her, this was all he wanted.

“Okay Ryoma-kun, I will teach you something. But when will we find time to do it?”

“We’ll take a couple weeks off from your training. You’ll be doing training with the regulars, so you won’t need me to help you anymore.” He readjusted his cap, preventing her from seeing his face. “Every Saturday, I’ll meet you and you’ll teach me something new.”

“I have to warn you,” She grabbed her tennis racket out of her bag and dramatically pointed it at him. “Ryuzaki-sensei is relentless and expects the best of her students.”

One blink. Two blinks.

Ryoma broke out laughing. “What—why—what in the world?” He gripped his stomach as he tried to catch some air. Panting deeply, he said “Ryuzaki-sensei, you don’t look much like your grandmother?”

Sakuno did do embarrassing things from time to time, but she always knew they were welcome with Ryoma. For someone as expressionless as Ryoma, anything that would make him laugh was welcome. It didn’t stop her from feeling like she should run into traffic.

“Mou, Ryoma-kun!” She knew she was all red from their practice, but she felt herself heating up. He placed his hand on her knee, trying to not to choke on some rice he had accidently swallowed, realizing the move too late.

She met his eyes, a smirk forming on his face. She felt his his thumb brush over the skin once. Twice. Then he raised his hand back to his own knee.

This man was going to get the lesson of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

“He said WHAT?” Her voice was shrill enough to make most bystanders wince.

“Tomo-chan, we’re in public!” Sakuno had spent way too much time in her life trying to get Tomoka to quiet down. It had become a habit rather than an actual request.

“No, Ryoma-sama asked you to teach him something! Do you know what this means Sakuno?” Her eyes were wide across the table, as if she was telepathically trying to communicate her thoughts to Sakuno. Sakuno looked at the small pastry on her plate, trying to find the best place to cut into it.

“This means something?” Sakuno tried to be as nonchalant as possible, but even she knew that Ryoma’s insistence was inkling towards something more. She did really want to discuss it with her best friend, but a public place like this wasn’t the best place. Tomoka insisted this was her favorite place to talk when Sakuno had said she had a private matter to discuss with her.

“You look so sad about this fantastic opportunity. When you said something private, I thought you were going to say you had three months to live or you were secretly pursuing a double life you wanted to come clean about!” Her spoon waved violently in the air, causing a waiter to assume he was being called over. “Oh, I didn’t mean to call you over, but now that you are here, could we have another one of these tartlets?”

Tomoka was her best friend, but she really didn’t understand the complexities of the Ryoma and Sakuno dynamic. They weren’t dating, but they couldn’t quite date anyone else. They spent large amounts of time together, doing almost-but-not-quite date-like activities, and supporting each other in many things. They weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but Ryoma was quite possessive over Sakuno, as a boyfriend would be, and Sakuno took care of Ryoma like a girlfriend would. It was all very complicated and not too complicated at the same time, and due to communication barriers, it wasn’t something that they talk about often.

Tomoka was a great friend, dropping out of tennis lessons after the first couple to allow Sakuno spend more time with Ryoma, rather than trying to share Ryoma’s attention with her. Sakuno felt a relative duty to report all happenings between her and the boy in question to her friend.

“Tomo-chan?” Tomoka’s head turned around slowly and gave her a cocked eyebrow. “Something else happened yesterday, other than Ryoma-kun’s request.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Did he try something else?” she whispered. 

“No, nothing like that.” Sakuno realized this would be a lot harder to admit than she previously thought. “I—I tried something.” Her voice quaked slightly, something it hadn’t done in years, let alone with Tomoka.

A grin pulled across Tomoka’s face. “Oh really? Did you try to grab his hand--”

“NOT THAT!” Sakuno squealed. The neighboring tables glanced over, while Tomoka laughed and waved her arm to dispel their attention. She felt herself heating up again, “I—I kissed him on the cheek.”

Tomoka stopped, her eyebrows went high. “Wha--?”

“I got into the Regulars because of him. It was four years of his precious free time he dedicated to me.” She knew she was getting rosier by the second, but she needed some advice on the situation.

“Sa-ku-no.” Tomoka massaged her forehead. “Why didn’t you lead with that!” The waiter came over with Tomoka’s order, and placed it in front of her. “THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING!”

Sakuno once again sweat dropped, but Tomoka didn’t show shame when dealing with anyone. That was probably why Tomoka had it so easy talking to everyone, she had no reason not to feel it was okay.

Communication came much harder to Sakuno and Ryoma had it harder than anyone else. He barely even congratulated her, although telling her that she’d better keep up her skills was the best she’d get. She had gotten a “good job” once when she won third place at a local tournament, but it was after a “mada mada dane.”

“Sakuno, you’ve completely changed the game.” Tomoka swiped into her tart with her spoon, stuffing into her mouth. “This used to be a rally, but now it is going to become an actual match.” One more bite, “And you’re going to win.”

“Tomo-chan, why are Ryoma and I competing in this version of events?” Sakuno chuckled slightly, because she knew in most competitive situations, she’d never win, as previous experiences dictated in her utter destruction.

“It’s a principle thing.” She stabbed her spoon into Sakuno’s face. “All love is a game, and who wins and loses is important.”

“But love means nothing in tennis.” Sakuno glanced up to Tomoka’s slightly startled expression.

“Saku-chan.” She slowed down considerably, “Are you saying you don’t believe in love?” Her eyes were wide, gripping her spoon tightly.

“It’s not that. It’s just I don’t think I should trick him into something like that.”

“Then don’t! Teach him!” She thumped her fist on the table.

“How do I teach him lessons in that?”

“You could teach him anything! How to be a nice person, how to be human! You could say you are going to have hands on lessons in kissing or kama sutra?”

“Tomo-chan!” 

“We are going to have that boy never say something cocky and rude ever again, while making him fall in love with you.” Tomoka’s grin stretched from ear to ear, while she punched one hand into another.

“I was thinking about something a little different…” Sakuno said quietly.

His eyes once again closed slightly. It was a Saturday morning and Ryoma was sitting at the back of a classroom being lectured about Ancient Japanese History.

When Sakuno texted Ryoma to meet her at the school, he assumed they’d be learning something about… something. He really had no idea what she’d come up with, but at least he thought she would pander to her strengths.

This wasn’t exactly what he was thinking when he asked her to teach him.

He showed up in his classroom, with a Sakuno pointing her hand indicating he should sit down. He groaned slightly. He didn’t need another teacher he spent the last week thinking about the fact that she kissed him.

He soon learned that Sakuno was not very good at history, constantly mispronouncing the era, and just insisted that the emperor wanted bunnies to crawl across his palace every fourth of the month.

“Ryoma-kun!” Sakuno pulled off her fake glasses. “I’m teaching you! Stay awake for the lesson!” She placed a hand on her hip. “You insisted that I teach you something, and I chose this because you didn’t grow up here.” She sighed and turned around to continue writing on the board. “Eto, where was I…”

Ryoma’s head went straight back on his arms. “You were talking about the intense warfare of the Sengoku period starting in 1467.”

Sakuno stopped writing and spun around. “You grew up in the States. How do you know about that?” She glanced at the textbook in front of her, “We haven’t even gotten to that in class yet!”

“Plane trips,” he said without looking up. “Especially ones with my father.”

She chuckled, and leaned on the desk in front of Ryoma. “So I’m teaching you something you already know, huh?” She looked a little disheartened. “And Tomoka dressed me to look like teachers in the US look like. Is this what they look like?” She waved her hand over her tight white blouse and grey pencil skirt, and he shook his head. He was a little too uncomfortable with the wide expanse of her legs, but he kept quiet. They sat in the silence while his eyes once again began to close. “Are plane trips that bad?”

“Excruciating.” His voice was still muffled. She pulled her bag onto the table and placed his bento in front of him.

“I’ve never been on a plane before.” She stared outside the window as he slid the cover off the box. “I always imagine it’s how birds fly?” She hadn’t ever thought about leaving Japan until she meet Ryoma. It was always a little odd to think about leaving her homeland to go visit exotic places.

That was Ryoma’s entire life. He was constantly hopping on planes and leaving. She knew sooner or later, he’d take a plane and never come back. It scared her a little, because he had become such a constant in her life. Even when he left now, she felt a part of her was missing and it wasn’t until he came back that she feel comfortable again.

“I have a tournament in Russia in two months,” Ryoma said, breaking her thoughts. He stood up and grabbed his tennis bag.

“Yeah, I have it marked on my calendar because we don’t have practice then.”

“It’s just an exhibition match, but I have to go for some sponsorship.” He moved so he stood facing her. He was taller than her, but only by maybe half a head. As their awkward friendship blossomed into an equally awkward “relationship”, she always had to compensate that half a head with confidence. Ryoma didn’t take someone seriously unless they could look at him straight in the eye unflinchingly, and it took a lot of willpower and time for her to do it, but when she did, Ryoma changed.

It was less stoic behavior, and more teasing and laughing. She preferred this Ryoma to the one that she met so many years ago. He was willing to say funny things, and even if it was at her expense, he had opened up dramatically.

“Does uncle fuss a lot about sponsorship?” She raised her hand to pull her hair into her bun. “He always comes along, ne?”

“My father doesn’t have to come along this time.” The words were awkward on his tongue, he knew it. He suddenly felt very awkward and gangly, like he was stuck in a toddler pen but he was ten feet taller than it.

“You just don’t want him to tease you.” She smiled. “I think Uncle likes going with you. He likes seeing your success.” She raised her hand once again to fix her hair and Ryoma caught it.

“No, he doesn’t have to come along this time.” His fingers wrapped around her wrist and his eyes narrowed, just slightly. Why couldn’t she just get what he was saying?

“He doesn’t have to always come with you?” She said slowly. He rubbed his thumb over her wrist, “Who would replace him?” Her voice jumped a little. Sakuno seemed to grasp what he was talking about when her face flushed, but her lip fell into a slight pout which always indicated confusion. She leaned into him a little, startling him. It was kind of overwhelming. He released her wrist.

“Che, forget it.” He knocked her knee with his. “Don’t forget to bend your knees. See you next week.” He walked out the door, flashing her a smirk.

“Wait!” She called out. “What’s happening next week?”

“Your next lesson.”


	3. Chapter 3

It had been several weeks since the beginning of the new arrangement. It was becoming a disaster. Sakuno kept coming up with cool ideas for teaching, and Ryoma either excelled with them enough that he wouldn’t need another lesson, or would insist it was a dumb activity and he wouldn’t need to continue learning.

She first started with meditation because her grandmother insisted that it was an important skill to anyone who claimed to be an athlete. She spent her entire week studying different methods, and pulled an exhausting thirty six hour day to perfect “silencing her mind.” She brought Ryoma to a gorgeous stream in the corner of the park that she mapped out very specifically for the lesson.

Ryoma, instead of appreciating all the work she put in, fell asleep.

She couldn’t really blame him that time. He had been under enormous amounts of stress, and it was their second to last year of school, so they had been worked to the bone. He was training for team games and his matches abroad. So she sat and meditated until Ryoma woke up and asserted his mastery of meditation before demanding a new lesson the next week.

Gardening led to Ryoma getting slightly spooked by a worm, which Sakuno thought was hilarious. It took promise of his first unborn child to ensure her silence on the matter. 

Origami made her question whether Ryoma was truly Japanese.

“Even children can make these. Is that supposed to be a frog?” She covered her mouth to laugh, barely being able to keep it in.

“Hn. The directions weren’t clear enough. You aren’t a very good origami teacher.” She continued to laugh while he began furiously refolding until the paper ripped. “This is dumb.”

“Maybe it’s just that you are not a very good student.” She plucked the paper out of his hand and made two folds. “Here is your crane.”

He glared at it, and then glared at her, but she saw him pocketing the little bird when he was leaving.

Rock collecting was a complete disaster. Ryoma decided it was funny to throw little pebbles at her. Palm reading was something she never wanted to speak of again. (One, because Ryoma once again fell asleep and two, because of his vice grip on her hand made her smile a little too much.) She tried to play soccer with him, but Ryoma seemed to be an immortal among men when he did any athletic activities. He taught her how to shoot a goal, and then fell asleep on the sidelines. She blamed him that time.

Each time, he said he expected something new the next week.

On top of Sakuno’s school work and regular’s training, she was becoming fed up with Ryoma’s constant insistence. He was obviously also exhausted, falling asleep most of the time, or nodding off when he thought she wasn’t looking. Why couldn’t they just go back to tennis training? Sure, she got training from the tennis coaches, but she enjoyed playing with Ryoma because he was, well, Ryoma.

It now was Friday morning, and Sakuno still hadn’t come up with a new lesson plan for this week. She had mulled over in head over and over again. What wasn’t Ryoma good at? She couldn’t pick something school related because he obviously studied very hard (and she wasn’t exactly in the position to do any more teaching with where her grades were.) She couldn’t pick random tasks, because Ryoma refused to engage in them. She couldn’t do anything athletic, because he obviously could destroy anything that required coordination.

She was much more coordinated than she used to be, but it had taken a lot of concentrated practice with Ryoma poking at her knees and hips and the yanking of her braids to ensure that she wouldn’t just fall over.

Her hair! It was painful!

He always discouraged the length of her hair, but her mother used to tell her that keeping her hair in braids would mean that she knew exactly which boys liked her and which ones didn’t. She really didn’t understand that, but since her mother had gotten sick and passed away, she liked keeping them that way. She had thought about cutting them every so often, especially from Ryoma’s constant remarks, but if she ever did mention that she was going to cut it all off, he’d always go quiet.

(She secretly thought he liked her braids.)

Going quiet was kind of an odd signal in their language. Ryoma was a quiet boy, quiet most of the time, and normally opened his mouth to say something cheeky, but he wouldn’t be unresponsive with her. One word answers were the minimum, but he always talked to her, or made some indication he was listening to her talk. If his weakness was not being able to communicate, her strength was working with what she had.

That’s when it hit her. If she couldn’t work to objective strengths or Ryoma’s non-existent workable weaknesses, she could work with her own strengths.

She quickly texted Ryoma, explaining she wanted to change their meeting to Friday night.

She heard the doorbell ring. Her grandmother had a Friday night tradition with her friends, so she was out. Ryoma had been to the house when they were “together”, and had been there alone and “together” but something fundamental had shifted in their relationship since she had innocently pecked him on the cheek. She wasn’t sure if it was him that changed, or her but they both felt it, and she was a little nervous.

“Oi, Ryuzaki.” He called through the door. She felt so old-fashioned. He always announced his presence before entering. If only he was always that forward.

“Coming!” She called as she ran from the kitchen to the front door. “Hi.” She motioned him in, after he took his shoes off. He pulled his tennis shoes off, dropping his tennis bag next to the shoes.

“Came from practice.” Quick and to the point. Ryoma did seem have a very specific way with words.

“Today, I’m going to teach you how to cook.” Her hands gripped the ends of her apron, the special one she only wore when she was entertaining. He nodded, taking off his jacket and taking off his cap. 

“It has ruffles.” He said as she handed him an apron and he cocked his eyebrow. He touched the edge of the apron. She sighed.

“Well, you can get oil on your clothes and ruin all the clothing that all those sponsors make you wear.” He grumbled, but tied the cloth around his back. She giggled slightly, taking a mental image of Ryoma’s expression and the fact he was wearing a very frilly apron.

Sakuno felt very much in her element as she explained she was going to teach him how she made rice balls. She had him wash the rice first as she watched, and then explained how to chop the green onions.

“Smaller pieces Ryoma-kun. If they’re too big, they’ll overpower the dish.” 

“Ryoma-kun, that’s too much salt!”

“The nori is going to rip if you keep touching it!”

He wasn’t bad at it, but he was much more interested than he had been before. She noticed he would taste everything before he added it in. He stared intently when she explained how to fry the mackerel.

“Why don’t I show you, and you can do the next one?” He stood behind her and she positioned her hand to prevent herself from dropping her chopsticks. “Do you see this color? This is when you know when it is done. I’ll do one more.”

He closed in on her and she felt his breathing on her neck. She suddenly became very aware of his proximity, as his front pushed into her back. She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart quickening through the kitchen’s silence, as the only remaining sound was that of the fish crackling in oil. He placed his hands on hers, and guided hers to turning the fish over, then over to the plate. His thumb rubbed against the inside of her wrist, and he exhaled right onto the shell of ear. She shuddered just a bit, trying to control herself. He took her chopsticks from her hands, placing the next piece of fish in the oil. They waited in silence. When Ryoma waited a little too long, one of her hands went to direct his, and the other turned down the heat, turning it off when he finished.

She turned around, meeting his eyes. They were intense, and there was something she couldn’t read. His hands carefully drifted to rest on her shoulders. He was trying to communicate something to her, but she couldn’t read it. Ryoma looked just above her eye line and then slowly lowered his lips to her forehead. It was brief, and she felt herself go from her natural rosy complexion to an artificial burgundy... or maybe it was a strawberry crayon?

He pulled away and looked at her once again. The corner of lips pulled up, into a smile. A real smile. Suddenly, his eyes fell to her lips.

The rice cooker beeped, and they jumped apart.

He wasn’t completely sure what he was doing, he was kind of just following his instincts, and they led him somewhere neither of them thought was, well, possible. He was a little surprised when she didn’t push him away when he stood so close, or when his face almost fell on her shoulder. He was even more surprised at how natural it felt. He always assumed that this type of touching would be awkward without prior explanation.

“Oh-okay Ryoma-k-kun,” She was stuttering. She hadn’t stuttered in years. He furrowed his eyebrows. What was she nervous about? He just experienced one of the most natural moments in his life, and she was feeling uncomfortable. “I’ll get the rice out of the cooker, why don’t you cut the fish?”

They worked in silence, which Ryoma found awkward. Sakuno wasn’t necessarily refusing his eye contact, but she kept deflecting his comments. He didn’t act like this when she kissed him! He really wished he had his hat to cover his face. They finished with the last rice ball, folding the nori carefully over the rice. She placed them in his usual bento box and handed him the box.

“Give them to Uncle and Auntie. You could tell them that you made them.” She looked like she had gotten a little more comfortable with the situation. He untied the apron around from his waist, handing it to Sakuno in exchange for the bento box.

She walked him to the door where they both stood, waiting for someone else to make a move. He retrieved his shoes, slowly pulling them onto his feet.

“Next week, we should cook croquettes.” His voice was a little gruffer than he planned, but she didn’t look too surprised.

“Can we…take a couple weeks off? School work…and my training. And you…you keep falling asleep every week. It would be best…for both our schedules.” She looked determined, almost defiant. Her eyes were strong, something Ryoma respected deeply, but he was a little hurt. He only came up with this arrangement so they could continue spending time together.

“You can do whatever you want.” He opened the door, and walked out. He knew he was being too harsh, but she was just not getting it. He didn’t care about what she was going to teach him, he didn’t care about whether she laughed at him or not, he cared about HER!

Did she not understand that they weren’t going to be together for much longer? She was going to make friends in the regulars and forget him sooner or later. He was going to be a professional after they graduated, so he would be permanently living on a plane where he couldn’t see her.

He was so happy they were learning to cook, that she was inviting him into her world, like when he introduced her into his world so many years before. She told him that she fell in love with tennis when she offered to reteach him before nationals. He wanted to love to do something for her.

Because of her.

Because he… something-ed her.

He stopped in the middle of the street. He “something”-ed her. It was intrigue that started this relationship, but it was a something now. A something he couldn't define. A something that made him boil when he saw her in her cute apron, and want to throw her up against a wall and have his way.

He realized then, he really should have turned around and told Ryuzaki--no Sakuno this in this situation, but he didn’t even know the words to start the conversation. 

It was then he realized that he might have completely miscalculated the situation. What if she didn’t like him anymore? What if she was just being polite now, and she didn’t want to spend time with him? He rubbed the top of his head, realizing he left his hat at her house.

He arrived at his house, muttering a ‘I’m home’ under his breath, practically throwing his bento box in the fridge. He stomped upstairs and flew under the covers.

“Hey, brat. Is everything okay?” His father poked his head into his room. “I heard some stomping up the stairs and a bento box is in the refrigerator that hasn’t been eaten.” His voice hung against the door frame, barely entering the room. “If you aren’t going to eat the rice balls, I will. I bet they are from the hag’s granddaughter, the one you don’t have the balls to—“

“Fine. I’m sleeping. Go away.” Today had been too long. 


	4. Chapter 4

Sumire Ryuzaki woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of her granddaughter’s vomiting in the bathroom. She rushed out of her bed to check on her, but rather than finding her granddaughter continuing to throw up, she found her crying.

“Sakuno, what’s wrong?” Sakuno had matured in the last 6 years, but she was still sometimes so little. It had been a very long time since she was this upset.

“Nothing Obaa-san. You can go back to sleep. I just felt a little sick. Maybe it was something I ate.” Sakuno stifled her sobs. Sumire sighed, and Sakuno up. “Obaa-san, I’m old enough—“

“Everyone needs some time to grieve. No matter what it is.” She grabbed a washcloth to wash Sakuno’s face off. “And everyone needs their grandmother from time to time.”

Sakuno once again began tearing up once again. “I’m such an idiot!” She threw her arms around Sumire, muffling herself against her shoulder.

“There there.” Since her mother had died, and her father was always on business, she took care of Sakuno for years and she was worried that Sakuno wouldn’t grow up to be a confident woman, especially when she entered the stage when she stammered and was constantly nervous. Sakuno did end up outgrowing the phase, becoming the confident women her mother would have been proud of, with much help from Ryoma.

“Now.” Sumire pulled her out of the kitchen, and sat her at the table. She heard slight sobs while she made tea, pulling out two tea cups. She poured tea into Sakuno’s cup and set the kettle down. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Sumire didn’t pull this tactic out often. Sumire and Sakuno got along very well, but they hadn’t had a heart-to-heart talk ever since she graduated middle school. She sighed.

“Obaa-san, I don’t want to burden you,” she whispered. She rubbed her eyes, wiping away any residual tears.

“Ryuzaki Sakuno, I am your grandmother. Burden me, whether you tell what it is or not. In this household, we share burden, and if we can at least talk through it, then the weight will be minimize.” Sakuno winced a little, knowing that her grandmother would pull it out of her sooner or later.

“It’s… about Ryoma-kun.” Sakuno watched her grandmother chuckle a little.

“Why didn’t I guess that?”

“Obaa-san!”

“Really Sakuno, you’re very transparent. I’m surprised that boy doesn’t understand you’ve been in love with him---“

“Obaa-san!” Sakuno slammed her teacup down. “I’m not—well, we’re—something…” She trailed off while her grandmother roared with laughter.

“With the amount of time you spend together, Sakuno, I’d assume you were together.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that, Obaa-san.” Sakuno glanced at her hands. “And in the two months, it’s become a little more complicated.” She sighed. “Ryoma-kun and I have a bit of arrangement, I think. We spend time together, and we don’t date other people.”

“So you’re dating?” Her grandmother looked a little surprised.

“Not exactly.” She leaned her forehead on her arm. “It’s more complicated than that. I don’t exactly know what Ryoma-kun wants out of this, but I think I changed the… relationship two months ago.”

“How so?” Her grandmother poured herself another cup of tea. She raised the cup to her mouth.

“I, well, I kissed him.” Her grandmother’s eyes widened, eyebrows rose and Sakuno wasn’t the least bit surprised when the tea sputtered from her mouth.

“What!?” Sakuno chuckled slightly when she grabbed a napkin to clean the tea off her cheek.

“It was just on his cheek, and I did it because I got into the Regulars.” She suddenly felt very shy in front of her grandmother. Who talks with their grandmothers about these types of things?

Her grandmother composed herself. “And then?” She sipped her tea like nothing had happened.

Sakuno narrated her life for the last couple weeks. Her grandmother seemed to be quite interested, telling her to finish before she went and began making breakfast.

“Has it been hard to give these lessons to Ryoma?”

“Yes! He’s always tired because he has so much training. And we have school and I have regular training, and he leaves for Russia soon!” Sakuno rested her forehead on her hands.

Sumire watched her granddaughter mull it over. Sakuno was always been a little dense, and it made sense how she didn’t see that Ryoma obviously took a rational decision to spend time with her. It made her quite happy that Ryoma cared for her granddaughter as much as he did, although her granddaughter didn’t see it.

“And yesterday, I tried to teach him to cook.”

Sumire cocked an eyebrow. Now, this was the first time she was hearing about it. “That explains why I found his hat.” She pointed to the lone hat sitting at the end of the table. “Did you use the green onions? Those didn’t look so good. I forgot to throw them out.”

Sakuno’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t I notice that? I didn’t even try them when we were cooking, just a little after he left. I was just so nervous after he kissed me…” She threw her hand over her mouth.

Sumire paused for a moment, watching her granddaughter fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. 

“Sakuno, I’m sorry, but this is hard to follow. Why are you upset about him kissing you?”

Sakuno sighed again, dropping her head on her arms. Her voice was muffled through.

“If you’re going to talk to the table, I will go make breakfast.” Sakuno’s head popped up. 

“No! Don’t over exert yourself!” Sumire chuckled under her breath. Sakuno’s weakness was always Sumire doing work. Sakuno spoiled Sumire, and it became an effective teasing point.

Sakuno whispered, “I was really happy he did that.” She smiled. “ Really happy. I didn’t know how to react.” She took a sip of tea. “It was just so-- he couldn’t tell me that he would do something.” She paused for the second. “Ryoma-kun has a real problem with communication.”

Sumire roared with laughter, seeing the slight irony in the situation. “Sakuno, are you coming to this conclusion only now?”

“No. I’ve always known that he was like that. But I don’t know why he continue these lessons. His time is so precious, and I feel like I’m wasting it.”

Sumire realized that Sakuno was having a complete mental block when it came to Ryoma, not picking up on some obvious signs, and with that realization, she threw Sakuno a bone.

“Sakuno, do you think that with Regulars training, you’d need Ryoma’s help anymore? You guys aren’t in the same class anymore, and Ryoma is about to go pro. Do you think you’d see him?

“Maybe we wouldn’t.” Sakuno’s brow furrowed as she thought. Suddenly, her entire body relaxed. “We probably wouldn’t.” Sumire placed her hand on her forehead and sighed, placing her other on Sakuno’s. “He was trying to make time for us to spend together, wasn’t he?”

“Why don’t you go make breakfast now?”

A week passed, and while Ryoma’s hat hung on the back of her door, Ryoma didn’t come on Saturday like she asked. Sakuno felt happy because she finally could sleep and wake up to the sounds of rain and not a preset alarm clock. This truly mean that Ryoma had listened to her for once and didn’t insist on her teaching, but she felt guilty for feeling happy. 

And now she felt sad knowing about Ryoma’s true intentions.

Instead of doing her homework like she planned earlier, she just stared at his hat. The hat meant a lot to him. He never left home without it and, wore it to all his matches, and he had given it to her on a couple occasions, which solidified whatever she thought they had.

A silly thought came that maybe the source of his power came from the hat itself. She cautiously reached for the brim of the hat, placing it on her head. Once again, she felt silly again, her cheeks burnt up. What was she doing?

It felt nice anyways, she was wearing one of Ryoma’s most prized possessions. She glanced in the mirror, fixing her hair underneath the hat. No one had to know she was wearing it, right? She raised her cell phone, throwing a peace sign in for good measure and click!

She thought about deleting the picture, as the number of times that Ryoma casually looked through her texts to “ensure all texts were wholesome and prevent misunderstandings with boys” meant she could be found out. But now, even if Ryoma went on trips abroad or moved to the US permanently, she still had a bit of him here.

She glanced up at her calendar. Her summer holidays were about to start, which left one trimester until her senior year. This time next year, Ryoma wouldn’t be here, teaching her tennis, or teasing her about her braids.

She’d be graduating, and deciding on colleges. She hadn’t thought about the college she wanted to visit or what she’d study. There wasn’t much time left for them. Sakuno thought of this time frequently, knowing sooner or later they’d have to go their separate ways because of their non-official status. It was a little depressing, but she had decided she would spend as much time as possible with him many years ago to prevent herself from getting too sad.

Now she knew that’s what he was thinking about their limited time, too.

She sighed, looking up at her calendar. There was a star written on today indicating that if last week’s lesson went well, she’d be teaching croquettes.

Sakuno giggled. It was odd for Ryoma-kun and her to be on very similar wavelengths for being such different people, although that was the probably the reason they worked so well. If both of them had issues communicating, then their real connection was based on just being in tune with each other.

But wavelengths didn’t make up for anything else, really.

She scanned the next week, realizing that her match that week had to be cancelled in the tournament. The day after, a small star was drawn next to the label “Russia”.

He was leaving this week. She had completely forgotten. But she hadn’t forgotten his hat which out his own pure stubbornness he probably wouldn’t come to get. She hadn’t planned on going out today, but she quickly changed out of pajamas. She rushed downstairs, and found her grandmother once again drinking tea at the table.

“Obaa-san, Ryoma-kun is leaving for Russia in two days! I have his hat. I have to give it to him!” Sakuno glanced outside, realizing that it was still drizzling. She quickly grabbed an umbrella and looked expectantly at her grandmother.

“Well, he couldn’t leave without his hat.” Sumire placed her teacup down, “Although I’m more worried about the fact that he probably ate those bad rice balls…” Sakuno’s eyes widened, and she called a quick ‘goodbye’, and ran through the door.

If Ryoma couldn’t play, she’d never forgive herself.


	5. Chapter 5

Sakuno severely miscalculated. What she thought was a little drizzle was actually a rain storm. While it didn’t completely drench her, it did make it difficult to navigate her way to Ryoma’s house, so when his mother found her soaked to the bone on the doorstep. No one was surprised.

“Sakuno-chan! Come in, come in. You’ll catch a cold if you stand in the rain. And you’re soaked!” Rinko wrapped a towel around her. “Ryoma has some older clothes you can wear while your clothes dry.”

“No Auntie, I’ll only be here for a little bit. I just came to drop off—“

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can leave after the rain stops," She ushered Sakuno into a bedroom. “And if you had to drop something off, you should have had Ryoma go to your house!” Pulling Sakuno onto the bed, she rifled through a dresser in the room. “We keep all of Ryoma’s old stuff in here, even though it should be a proper guest room. Ryoma’s trophies took up too much space in our house in the States, so we have to leave most of them in storage when we moved here. He didn’t seem too angry about it, although I don’t think he’d care if we just left them there forever.”

“Ryoma-kun has always been indifferent about trophies.” Sakuno said quietly. Sakuno walked around the room, looking at the different awards Ryoma had won in his lifetime. Number 1 in below 12 category, All-Youth Champion 5 years in a row, a lifetime achievement award from the National Tennis Youth Association... Ryoma was head and shoulders above the rest.

“Here you go, Sakuno-chan! Just hand me your wet clothing when you’re done. And then your hair, we can comb through your hair!” Sakuno shut the door after Rinko, a little startled that Rinko was so excited about combing through her hair. She quickly dressed in a t-shirt and tennis shorts, which made her blush a little because Ryoma had worn them before. She handed her clothes to Rinko, who returned with a comb and an evil glint in her eye.

Sakuno sat on the floor while Rinko sat on the bed, unbraiding Sakuno’s hair. “I always wanted a girl. One to dress up, comb her hair, and teach her how to cook. Ryoma himself was hard pregnancy, so the doctor said it wouldn’t be a smart idea to try for another one.” They sat in silence while Rinko finished combing.

Rinko once again sniffled, and rose to her feet. “Yosh, Sakuno-chan, I would like you to be my real daughter one day. Daughter-in-law at least. I know my son is denser than a block of wood and has no ability to talk about anything, but in the last few years he’s really opened up, and I think you are a major force in that.” Sakuno blushed as she rose, and Rinko patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll be praying for both of you.”

“Sakuno-chan!” Sakuno heard a familiar, although slightly delirious-sounding voice coming from the now open door, then a pair of arms fell around her. “Did you come here to see my idiot son?”

“Nan-ji-roh. You shouldn’t be out of bed right now!” Rinko scolded her husband, while he held onto Sakuno tighter. “You won’t be able to go to Russia with Ryoma if you don’t get better soon.”

He released Sakuno and pulled his wife into a hug. “I was thinking. What if I didn’t go!? We’d have the house all to ourselves, and—“His eyes went out of focus and his mouth curved into a grin. Sakuno suddenly blushed at his words as Rinko hit him with the top of the comb.

“Who would go with Ryoma to Russia instead? You know how he is. He’d forget to eat if someone doesn’t go with him!”

“Well...” He suddenly pulled Sakuno off the ground. “Sakuno-chan can go! She takes care of him really well, and then Ryoma can be alone with her in a completely different---“Rinko finally had enough and slapped her husband. Nanjiroh fell to the ground, gripping his check.

“Wait!” Rinko suddenly stopped. “That isn’t a bad idea. Sakuno-chan, could you go with Ryoma to Russia? You could use Uncle’s plane ticket and everything is already paid for by the tournament.” Rinko’s hand touched her own cheek as if she was in deep in thought.

Sakuno was a little lost. She got told by her crush’s mother that she is hoping she gets married into the family, she was slightly groped by her crush’s father, and then she was invited to go to Russia by both of them. “Eto, I don’t know. I don’t think I can, and Obaa-san would be angry if I missed school.”

Nanjiroh jumped from the floor. “I’ll call the old hag!” He barreled out the door. Rinko sighed.

“Sometimes I’m sad that Ryoma isn’t more sociable, but I’m very happy he’s not like his father.” She sighed once more, placing a hand on her hips. “But Sakuno-chan, you came here to drop something off, didn’t you?” Sakuno once again remembered, before rummaging through her bag.

“Ryoma-kun left his hat at my house last Saturday. He was leaving, so I thought he may want it back.” She looked at the ground quickly, realizing she wasn’t being completely honest. “And there was an issue with the food that I cooked for Ryoma last week. He’s fine, right?”

“Sakuno-chan, you are so considerate. Thankfully, it was just my idiot husband that ate the food.” Rinko paused while Sakuno fidgeted with the edge of the shorts. “What did Ryoma do to get a girl like you to tolerate him?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Sakuno said as she chuckled and waved her hand. He didn’t really do anything at all. She was the one that grew to love him. She walked to the door, pulling it open. “Ne, Auntie. Where is-“

“Oh, you’re here. That’s why Oyaji is flapping about.” His voice came out sharp and cold. More so than usual. She took a step back, right into his mother.

“Ryoma! Don’t be mean to Sakuno-chan! She is god-sent, and you should know better,” Rinko said as stepped to the side from behind Sakuno. Sakuno’s eyes widened and she felt her lower lip trembling. Her hands fidgeted around the cap she held in her hands, only then feeling Ryoma’s unrelenting glare. “I just remembered I should be taking Sakuno-chan’s clothes out of the dryer.”

Sakuno could have chuckled if she wasn’t so terrified right now. Rinko sensed the situation and eased out of there quickly.

She knew she shouldn’t be as scared as she was. She was the one who wanted to come here, but instead of thinking about what she would say, she barreled to his house to give him something he could probably done without. Her only real plan was to hand the hat to his mother and run. With the distraction, she was now she at a loss for words. His perfectly tousled hair and his beater that showed way too much bicep with his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame, and his piercing gold eyes seemed to stare into her soul were making her nervous in a way that she couldn’t even remember why she was there.

“H-hello, Ryoma-kun…” She couldn’t get the words out. “Umm.. You-you left your hat at my house.” She weakly pushed the hat into his chest. He unfolded his arms, plucking the hat from her hand.

“Is that it?” he said dryly. His eyes narrowed. “Thank you for my hat.”

“It’s not just—"  
  


“I thought you were tired of me.” His voice suddenly softened. He stepped towards her. “I thought you wanted a break from me.” Her face continued to flush, she rubbed her fingers on the edge of her (his) shorts. He sounded hurt, but almost more angry than hurt. He had the right to be angry right?

“Ryoma-kun—“

“It’s fine, isn’t it? We can stop. You don’t like me anymore, right?”

Her hands balled into fists. Why didn’t he understand?

“Ryoma-kun, you idiot!” She felt her voice come out of somewhere she didn’t recognize. “Every week, you made me teach you some skill, something that you didn’t care about or you didn’t want to learn more about, for some reason you couldn’t tell me! And I knew you were tired because of your tennis practices, and your travelling, but I still had regular practice and I cooked you lunch. Of course I like you! Why are you so stubborn?” Her voice was getting louder as she went on. She felt her tears coming down her face. “Why couldn’t we just keep playing tennis? Why couldn’t you just tell me you wanted to spend time with me? Why didn’t you think about me?”

He made a motion to place his hand on her shoulder, but she shook him off.

“No!” She continued. “You never say anything at all! I was so happy when you kissed me, but couldn’t you have said something? Anything at all? You never say anything. What exactly are we Ryoma-kun?”

“Ryuzaki…”

“We aren’t friends because you don’t just kiss your friends, but we aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend or anything like that. What am I to you Ryoma-kun? Just a silly girl who makes you lunch?” She felt her emotions draining from her body, quietly shuddering as she finished. “This is obviously not working anymore. Why try to stop something that is inevitable?” She clenched her teeth, hating that she could only speak the truth.

Ryoma stood mute in front of her, and Sakuno looked up to his unemotional face.

She raised an arm to push past him, launching her body through the doorway. She rushed, only for her arm to be caught in his.

“Wait,” he said quietly.

“No. You’ll never understand,” Sakuno muttered. She pulled her arm from his, and raced her way out of the front door.

She laughed a little while she felt her tears to continue to fall down her cheeks. She had cried twice now in the last two days, and she felt so emotionally drained.

It felt nice though, as she finally said her thoughts aloud, and even if he misunderstood it, it didn’t matter. She walked through what was left of the drizzle, realizing that she left her clothing and her umbrella at his house. Sooner or later, she’d get them. She couldn’t be too worried.

Was that the right thing to do?

Sakuno dismissed it as she entered her house, wanting to take a hot bath and go to sleep.

“Tadima!” She called quietly into the house, hoping she could avoid her grandmother before she could make to the bath.

“Ah, Sakuno.” Her grandmother poked out of the kitchen, and Sakuno smiled slightly. She passed by on her way up the stairs, her head slightly ducked. She had done a lot of crying and didn’t want her grandmother to get worried. “You’re so wet! You even forgot your umbrella! I hope you won’t be this forgetful when you’re in Russia.”

Sakuno stopped suddenly.


	6. Chapter 6

Ryoma knew he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the kitchen when it came to women. He had learned that many of the things he said to Sakuno in the last couple years would have had him punched in unmentionable places if said to other women (Nanako was a recipient to many of these seemingly questionable phrases, and she _always_ set him straight). Which is why he felt very confused when he stumbled upon Sakuno in his house, in his clothing after telling him that she wanted to spend time apart from him.

What really threw him was what she was wearing. If he thought ruffles did it for him, Sakuno wearing _his_ clothing--that was something on a completely different level. He found himself just staring at her for a good amount of time, trying to patience himself, instead of pushing her on the bed in the room.

So when he tried to talk to her, it came out gritted. It was just too much--too overwhelming. He was trying to get out that he was hurt, but he wanted to ravish her quickly and immediately, leading to anger.

Add in his confusion, leading to actual anger. How dare she make him feel like this all the time?

And her resulting tirade on his faults. She was right. About all of them.

Her frustration with him led to a growing frustration he was feeling for himself, growing from the day he couldn’t tell her that he wanted to spend time with her, outside of tennis. Was it that hard to just say the words?

He couldn’t ask her to Russia. He couldn’t tell her how he felt. He couldn’t say a single thing.

He was paralyzed, something an athlete wouldn’t be able to deal with.

He couldn’t even stop her after she said he’d never understand. She had even confessed that she liked him, a step neither of them had taken. He didn’t even try.

He was angry--not at her, but with himself. What would he say to her? I’m sorry, I like you too? Not enough.

Everything else seemed like too much.

Not sure how to deal with paralysis, he threw himself into getting ready for his exhibition match. Maybe he’d be able to piece together the words when he properly thought about the issue.

So everyday started with endless laps and rallies with his father, and ended with a ball, a racket, and a wall. Fifty push-ups before lunch, thirty after lunch. He was a determined one. Not only to win the match, but not think about his predicament.

He was a bit too good at tuning out the rest of the world.

It wasn’t until he was driven to the airport did he notice that his father didn’t have any suitcases.

“Oyaji, you forgot your suitcases.” Ryoma said yawning. He watched his father chuckle.

“Well, brat, I’m not well enough--” fake cough “--yet to go with you, so your mother and I arranged for someone else to go.”

“You’re lying.” Ryoma rolled his eyes. His father was so weird. It was always lost on him how he got married to his mother or even how conquered the tennis world.

They arrived in silence to the airport, where Ryoma noticed his father was in quite the rush to dump him, quickly explaining where to go, wishing him luck, then leaving, saying something about parking tabs.

Ryoma, had no problem finding his way through the airport, getting settled into his seat on the airplane early. He stretched his feet out comfortably.

The plane ticket and hotel had been provided for by the tournament, so he was able to have a sitting space. He had an over nine hour flight ahead of him, and he was planning on using most of it to sleep. With the way he practiced and worried, he hadn’t gotten too much sleep in the last couple days, and he knew that he could have some uncomplicated, relaxing sleep in a seat like this.

He was thankful that all extra-social events were optional, as he planned to play some matches and then take some well-deserved naps.

He glanced at his watch, only ten minutes until departure. The seat next to him remained empty. Whoever it was, wasn’t coming. Fine by him. It would be like this after he went professional. He’d just meet the people by himself, and he didn’t need a chaperone or a babysitter.

Outside the window, an early day was just starting and a sun just seemed to appear dimly, and Ryoma yawned again. Why wait for the rest and relaxation? He buckled himself in, folded his arms, closed his eyes and drifted off.

  
  


Tight gray skirt, fitted white blouse, and an apron with ruffles, all getting in the way as he gripped her audacious hips. For some reason, flour was spilt all over the floor, and his shirt was already unbuttoned. His head was resting somewhere between her shoulder and her neck, but he could not care to remember with the little, small puffs he could feel coming up her diaphragm, and the sounds they made when they finally reached her lips. 

He could feel a warmth when she wrapped her arms around his neck. One hand tugged on his lowest locks, while the other gripped the back of her neck, encouraging him. He slipped a hand lower, skimming firmly upon her outer thigh.

Suddenly, her hand firmly pulled his head upright, and he met a pair of brown eyes.

It was quite a misunderstanding when he saw the same pairs of eyes, hair once again in braids--Sakuno that was trying to wake up Ryoma for the meal service.

“Ryoma-kun, the food trolley is coming. Ryoma-kun, please wake up.” Her voice was quiet, and felt light and flowery on his disoriented mind.

“Sakuno, what are you doing?” Ryoma drawled as he spoke. He suddenly felt a slight buzzing, pulling his ear. He turned to his left, finding the window.

There were bright white, plumes of clouds that seemed to be endless, reflecting the sun magnificently. He breathed in slowly, feeling a certain dryness to the air, and his hand came in contact with the thick plastic that separated him from the cold outside.

His head whipped to the right once more, observing a very red Sakuno. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress, while her brow furrowed. He gripped the blanket he realized was placed upon him while he was sleeping.

He was awake. Dammit.

Sakuno was sitting next to him. Damn his father.

“Ryoma-kun, the trolley.” Her voice was even quieter now, just above a whisper. 

The air hostess stopped in the aisle, ignoring any obvious awkwardness, and pulled a smile. 

“Do you have a preferences of your meal?” Ryoma felt a little more awake, and replied that they would have Japanese style meals. Tray tables were pulled forward, and meals were placed in front of them.

Ryoma did not enjoy airplane food. But he was those who got the best that cooking could offer from Sakuno. He picked at his food, as he casted a sidelong glance at the girl who was eating her food with a gusto he had never saw. He chuckled.

“Is there something funny, Ryoma-kun?” Sakuno glanced at Ryoma and then quickly at her food.

“Why are you eating this like it is a four course meal?” Ryoma cocked an eyebrow while Sakuno politely wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“Because Ryoma-kun, all food should be tried and eaten with some type of spirit,” she said as her expression soured. “Even if they used the wrong amount of spice in the egg.”

They finished in silence, and their garbage being collected quickly and promptly. Ryoma once again found himself nodding off, the piercing sunlight preventing him from proper napping.

“Damn sun,” he murmured under his breath as he made a motion to close the window.

“Please keep it open, Ryoma-kun!” Sakuno’s hand, almost as if it moved by itself, touched the back of Ryoma’s hand.

He jumped.

She pulled her hand back.

He sighed.

“Would you like to switch places with me?” Ryoma gestured to his seat. “You’ll be able to see out the window, and I won’t be bothered by the sun.” She nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Ryoma-kun is so considerate.” Sakuno said quietly, a smile rising to her face. Awkwardly shuffling into the aisle, they switched seats, buckling as the seat belt light went on. Sakuno turned towards the window.

“I told you that it was like birds flying, Ryoma-kun?” Ryoma settled into his seat, ready to take another nap, muttered a sound. “Well, I think I was wrong.”

Ryoma opened his eyes, turning his head towards Sakuno. She continued to stare out the window. 

“What do you mean?” His voice came out a little rougher than he planned.

“It’s nothing like how birds fly.” She suddenly turned her head. Her hair whiplashed slightly, but he only noticed her eyes.

It was something he only saw when she watched his tennis matches. She was shining unadulterated awe. Her smile, one he hadn’t seen in such a long time, was making his heart fall a little. Or rise a little. Something of the sort. A sunray hit her at an angle, making her glow. 

She was beautiful.

She turned her head back to the window. “It’s like flying in a dream. Right above the fluffy clouds, where there is nothing else but open sky,” she paused. “When people dream about flying, it’s flying somewhere they’d want to be.,” she looked at Ryoma once again. “Is this where you aim for when you practice?”

Ryoma felt an odd feeling coming over him. He felt it before, but much stronger than he felt when she kissed him on the cheek. Much stronger than that day in the kitchen. It flooded him. He felt his cheeks turn red, and an odd sensation fill his fingers.

This was something. This was more than something.

Suddenly, it was all too clear to him.

“Don’t be dumb,” he coughed out. “I aim higher.”


	7. Chapter 7

An entire plane trip and car trip later, Ryoma and Sakuno arrived to a large hotel where all the tennis players were being housed for the exhibition match.

Although Ryoma had planned on taking a nap as soon as he got anywhere soft enough, he found himself unable to fall asleep after his initial two-hour nap. He wanted to blame it on the fact that he couldn’t find anywhere good enough to sleep, but he knew he was too painfully aware of Sakuno to do anything.

It was like everything she did in these moments was suddenly the only thing to which he could pay attention. He didn’t even know how he was going to play actual matches tomorrow, knowing she’d be on the bench behind him, touching her hair, drinking water, cheering his name.

Ryoma had made a big discovery while he sat next to the sky observing Sakuno: He liked her too much to simply say that he was intrigued by her. To say he was happy where he couldn’t explore their relationship. He liked her too much to say he was a coward.

He liked her. Too much, that is.

Too much, he had to tell her.

“Ryoma-kun! Look down the elevator, you can see the fountain from here.” She had her hands pressed against the glass. Ryoma leaned against the back of the elevator, watching her amusement with their increasing height.

How would he tell her? That was probably the question of a lifetime. He obviously couldn’t directly just say something, because it would come out garbled and mangled.

He couldn’t do anything direct, because she’d get awkward like she did before.

Maybe a mixture of both?

He glanced over at Sakuno, who was now trying to count how many people she could see from their height.

Would it be a shock to her? She admitted to liking him before, although he kind of understood. Sakuno then realized the ceiling was a mirror, twirling to see herself.

Okay, it had to be soon. He tipped his hat over his face, realizing he had to spend an entire weekend in a hotel room with Sakuno.

Definitely too much pressure.

Reaching their floor, Ryoma had to tear Sakuno away from the glass, towards their room. Opening their room, they were greeted with a large lounge.

“That’s the bathroom,” Ryoma pointed to the door on the right. “And this over here is the bedroom.” He deposited their luggage. “I’ll take the first shower.” Sakuno nodded, sitting down on one couch.

The rest of the day went according to Ryoma’s original plan. He got out of the shower, nodding to Sakuno that she could take hers, and then collapsed on the bed behind him. He slept in until he heard an odd rustling in the next room, followed by a high-pitched shriek. 

“Ryoma-kun, why are you wrapped in a blanket?” Sakuno said as she detached herself from the clothing falling out of her suitcase. Ryoma stood in a blanket cocoon and hopped his way to the door frame.

“Never mind that, why did you yell?” 

“No reason.” Her face went red and flushed. “I thought I saw a spider.”

He dropped his blanket, moving out into the lounge. “Don’t make such unnecessary sounds for things so small.” He thought she was lying, but rather than delve into something she didn’t want to talk about, it was easier to do it this way.

“Hey! Spiders are scary,” she flapped her hands. “They could be poisonous here--” She tripped over herself, falling to the ground. He quickly rushed towards her.

“Hey, be careful.” He bent down to check her for any injury.

“It’s getting late, don’t we have to get ready for this?” She held a white invitation. “I found it under the door! It must be quite a party.”

“Not going,” he drawled as he stood.

She tilted her head slowly, grasping the white invitation. “Why aren’t we going? Obaa-san said that these parties are why people put up with the matches?”

“Don’t want to go.” Ryoma turned around, setting his heart on getting in another couple hours before he had to get up and warm up for his match tomorrow. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt.

“But Ryoma-kun...” She trailed off. “...I can just go?” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Do you understand Russian?” He turned his head, looking towards her. She shook her head, looking towards something in her suitcase. Her hand released his shirt. She stood up slowly.

“It is unreasonable for me to go by myself, I can’t even speak English.” Her hands gripped the edge of her dress. “You also have the match tomorrow so you can’t be out too late.” Her eyes made a quick glance at the open suitcase. His eyes followed hers, noticing something glittering.

Oh.

He sighed.

“Okay, we can go,” he blurted. 

She leaped. Two unexpected hands jumped around his neck, and her hair filled his line of vision.

“Thank you Ryoma-kun!” He steadied himself, taking a couple steps backwards.

“No problem.” He tried to control his voice, but his eyes fell to her lips. Sakuno quickly released, backing away.

Ryoma moved back to the bedroom and got ready in silence. It was a tendency for his mother to pack formal clothing, even when she knew he didn’t go to the parties. He never did plan on going, but for once, he was glad that it wasn’t just tennis shorts and the occasionally trafficked ponta six pack.

He was a bit frustrated to have agreed so easily to it, but he knew Sakuno was just the right person to convince him of anything.

Sakuno was not sure what was going on with her. It was as if her body was on auto-pilot and she was going through all the motions suddenly, with no thought. Her mind had taken an early break from the semester, and not only were her grades suffering, but she just could not keep it together.

It was all too embarrassing.

First she yells at Ryoma for not communicating with her. Then she confesses to him. Then she yells at him again for not telling her his true intentions.

Then, she went home to pack to go on a trip to a foreign country with him.

It was a bit of shock when her grandmother had allowed her on the trip, but what was more surprising was the fact that Sakuno had a raring passport ready to go apparently “if the situation was to arise.” Her grandmother was a sneaky one.

With some supervision from her grandmother and the occasional sprinkle from Tomoka, her luggage was ready to go, and she was on a trip to the airport. Luckily she planned ahead for once due to her inability to navigate airports, she could get on the plane only a minute after the final boarding was called.

After some confusion with seating, Sakuno recognized a mess of green-black locks dozing against the window where she smiled. He wouldn’t change anytime soon.

She placed a blanket on him, buckling in for a long journey. As the plane took off, she glanced out the window, realizing the height that they were at.

It differed from anything she’d imagine.

When Ryoma finally did wake up, she felt the need to have the full body first flight, insisting that the window stay open, even going as far as physically stopping him.

She thought that would be the lowest point. (He even called her by her name!) Nope.

She ended up jumping in his arms when he okayed her request to go to the party. It was as if her arms were separated from her body, responding to his words without her own mind approval.

She only pulled away in time when she saw Ryoma’s eyes fall to her lips. Sakuno didn’t want it to get awkward.

Although, why wasn’t this more awkward?

Even the plane ride, although guilt ridden, tension filled, was not nearly as awkward as she thought it would be, and after they switched seats, there rarely was any. They went back to the way they were.

Was this good? Or was it bad?

It wasn’t awkward, and that is good. But it was as if she didn’t confess.

Was that good?

A weird tightening coiled in her chest. No, it wasn’t good. She wanted to be selfish and have him admit his feelings. She wanted him to know and acknowledge her feelings.

Most of all, she wanted him to make his move. 

Tonight wasn’t a good night to talk about it. She didn’t want him to be off for his matches tomorrow. Tomorrow night would be a better day to discuss this. She patted her heart.

Tomorrow, her heart could rest tomorrow.

Today, she needed to get ready for the party.

She didn’t know exactly what to expect, but her grandmother said these were pretty fancy parties. Tomoka had heard of ‘a fancy party’ and stuffed her suitcase full of party dresses and questionable lingerie (which when she found she shrieked!) She settled on a simple blue dress, undoing her damp braids.

Ryoma stepped out of the bedroom, attempting to tie the necktie without avail.

“Do you know how to tie this?” He dropped it around his neck. Sakuno giggled. “What’s so funny?” 

“Ryoma-kun’s one rival he couldn’t conquer: his tie,” she giggled once again.

“My father normally ties it for me.” His ears became a light shade of red, while his hands went back to try again. Sakuno’s heart ached watching him stand there like that.

For once, he seemed to be bested. It was something as insignificant as a tie, but maybe he really was human.

She really had thought he didn’t understand her feelings of frustration towards their so-called relationship. But maybe he did.

Maybe every time his eyes fell to her lips, it was because he wanted a reason to push them further.

He had his weaknesses, just like she did. She stood as he played with the tie, realizing that she shouldn’t wait for him to just overcome them, but help him overcome them.

“Ah, got it,” Ryoma tightened his tie. “Let’s go.”

They made their way to the elevator, down to a large ballroom. Ryoma leaned once again at the back of the elevator and Sakuno came to rest against the glass.

“Ryuzaki,” Ryoma said plainly. Sakuno glanced over, taking him in again. “Stay with me.”

“Huh?”

“You won’t be able to understand them. Just don’t get lost.” Ryoma tilted his head to the right. “Stay with me.”

Sakuno could have broken right there. She could have thrown herself at him, told him to accept her confession.

She had to control herself.

“I will,” her voice was strong and confident. The elevator finally made it to the last floor, where they quickly crossed to the large banquet hall.

It was nothing like she’d ever seen. Large streamers were draped from the ceiling, curving out, with a large chandelier glimmered light to all the edges of the room. In one corner, a DJ stood, mixing music she’d never heard before, while there was a large area cleared for dancing. Elsewhere, there was seating along with a long table with many types of foods and a bar behind with bartenders flipping bottles while pouring drinks at the same time. The noise seemed to feed upon itself, building itself louder, drawing Sakuno in a way she’d never felt before.

“Che.” She felt his hand wrap around her wrist. She had already taken a couple steps forward, being enveloped within the atmosphere.

“What did I say? If you are going to ignore me, then you should just have disagreed.” Ryoma dragged her over to the table of food, where Sakuno tried everything, though nothing seemed to be familiar. Ryoma was inspecting a can that suspiciously looked like a Ponta, but the lettering was all in Russian.

She found something she particularly liked, raising for a second helping when she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned to find a tall man with short brown hair and fedora that covered his face. He began to speak, but she only recognized that he wanted to do something with dancing.

She tried to walk through her English, only coming with the words “No” and “dance”, but he pulled her, continuing to talk as she understood. She looked back and saw Ryoma realizing the situation too late.

They swung her on the dance floor, pulled close to this man’s body. His hands moved hers to his shoulders and moved his own to just above her hips.

What was going on here?


	8. Chapter 8

He said stay, didn’t he?

Now she was across a giant banquet hall, dancing with a man she didn’t know, couldn’t talk to, and for all they knew was a murderous serial killer who was on the prowl for pretty girls.

Ryoma knew it wasn’t Sakuno that decided to dance, but his blood was boiling in a way it hadn’t before. He didn’t even care if he would lose tomorrow by starting a fight, he just needed to get her back.

He weaved through the crowd, trying desperately until found any semblance of dancing.

This is why he didn’t go to these things! Too much noise, too many people, and the weird ones came out to play.

Who just snaps up a girl he can’t communicate with?

While recovering from that low blow from his own conscious, he finally found a hard piece of floor where there was shuffling of feet to a general beat. Due to the constant flow and Ryoma’s clumsy movement, he stepped on the feet of numerous people. Only one man attempted to yell, though in Russian, Ryoma was promptly able stop him from making a scene with a glare.

He finally located them on the edge of the dance floor, the strangest man he’d ever seen, in a flamboyant purple suit with a fedora. He was pulling Sakuno around as if she was a rope, nothing that even looked like a likeness of a dance and it wasn’t even close to the beat.

He made his way towards the two, where the crazy man suddenly stopped.

“Ryoma Echizen!” his thick European accent poured over his words. “I was so very excited to hear we would have an Asian contender this year. I am Tomas Borg.” He tipped his hat towards Ryoma. “This tournament always tends to have players only from the West, and it gets so very repetitive. Which was so exciting when I saw you and this cute girl with you,” his hand gestured to a very dizzy and disoriented Sakuno who was trying to regain her balance. 

“Leave her alone.” Ryoma practically growled. His glare wasn’t having the desired effect on this man.

“It seems I got your attention, just as I planned to get,” his hand rested on Ryoma’s shoulder. “It’ll be interesting this tournament. If you ever want to have practice matches while you are here, don’t be afraid to ask.”

He returned to Sakuno quickly, kissing her hand, then quickly exiting the dance floor. Ryoma quickly made it to Sakuno, while she was still trying to regain her balance. He gripped her waist, steading her.

“Ryoma-kun, the room is spinning.” He grasped her hand. She smiled at him, finally feeling at ease. He pulled her to the seats in the back, sitting down next to her, sighing slowly.

“What did I say about leaving me?” Ryoma said quietly. Sakuno’s brow furrowed, squeezing his hand.

“But, it wasn’t my fault! He grabbed me.” A waiter dropped by and Ryoma grabbed a glass of water. “I didn’t even know what he was saying. He kept saying your name though. Ryoma Echizen this, Ryoma Echizen that. All I could do is nod along.”

Ryoma sighed again. He couldn’t get angry at her. He could never get angry at her again. It would hurt him too much.

“It was fun though,” she said quietly. Ryoma barely heard it, but noticed a smile coming up on her face.

They conversed about their lives for the last couple days due to their separation. Ryoma grumbled about his father not saying anything who was coming with him, and Sakuno chuckled about her grandmother’s response to allowing her to come along.

There was a bit of a drop in the chaos as a slower song was played. Ryoma checked the time on his phone, realizing it was probably time to go back upstairs. He made a motion to move, and Sakuno tensed up.

“Hmm?” Ryoma asked nonchalantly.

“Oh, it’s just,” Sakuno hesitated momentarily. “We, well, we didn’t have our lesson last week.” She paused again, flushing a bit. “Would you like to have in it now?”

Ryoma cocked his eyebrow. What was she up to?

“Forget what I said before,” she bowed her head slightly, pulling his hand, moving onto the dance floor. “About taking time off.” She positioned his hand on her waist, grasping the other and placing her hand on his shoulder.

She was so close, her front was just barely pressing against his front. Her breathing was evident, and she was nervous. Her grip on his hand was irregular, softening then tensing, while she looked into his eyes. He couldn’t recognize it, but it was warm. His eyes fell down to her lips once again. He pulled her closer, his breathing hitting her ear.

“What now?” He whispered.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how to dance,” Sakuno said quietly. Ryoma chuckled.

“Then why me bring out here?” He pulled her into him, indicating that she should sway with him.

“I don’t know.” She slid into him, naturally, like their bodies were meant to fit together. “I just,” she flushed, “I don’t know what is wrong with me.” Her hand on his shoulder came to rest on the back of his neck. “My body is moving without my mind saying anything.”

“Oh, is it?” He felt her fingers on the back of his neck playing with the edge of his hair. His fingers flexed around her waist. “What is your body doing without your brain’s permission?   
  


“Don’t make me say it.” Her voice wavered, while her hand delved further into his hair.

“Why not?” His voice dropped lower.

“Ryoma-kun always likes embarrassing me.” She looked up at him, their eyes meeting. “But,” Sakuno quickly looked away, “I don’t hate being embarrassed by Ryoma-kun.”

“Why not?” He repeated. His chin slightly knocked her jawbone, his thumb rubbed the back of her hand. They swayed in silence, to the soft, melodic notes. 

“Ryoma-kun used to be really quiet when we were younger, and only when you teased me did you smile,” she continued. “I like your smile. That’s why I don’t mind being embarrassed.”

Ryoma kept silent. Sakuno’s wandering hand came back to rest on his shoulder, while her other hand tensed up around his.

“It’s because you like me, right?” Ryoma said softly, reverberating into the shell of her ear. Her hand relaxed against that, and she leaned into him. It was all the affirmation he needed.

The song ended, and everyone began to clap. Sakuno pulled away from Ryoma and clapped along, smiling at him.

Ryoma glanced at his phone once again, gesturing it was time to go. Sakuno nodded, following him out of the banquet hall. They rode up the elevator, hand in hand.

He took a sidelong glance at Sakuno who smiled at him. Her cheeks were tinted a bright shade of pink and her wavy hair was cascading over her shoulders, curling over her face, naturally falling everywhere. Her blue dress complemented her pale skin, and it cut off almost uncomfortably.

“Too much,” Ryoma mumbled under his breath. It really was unfair, a beautiful girl who just admitted to liking him.

Unlocking the door of their hotel room, Ryoma let Sakuno in.

“I have to do something. Go to bed without me.” Ryoma said. Sakuno nodded and entered.

Ryoma sat next to the door, opening his phone to see the time. Tonight had been quite the adventure. But, he got the absolute confirmation.

Tomorrow would be when he told her.

Tomorrow would be when he could have her.

He waited another 20 minutes before going inside. Old clothes, ruffles, and now the color blue had been added to his ever growing list of fantasies.

  
  


“Game. Set. Match. Ryoma Echizen!” The umpire yelled over a general crowd commotion, where everyone started cheering.

Sakuno smiled. She knew he’d win. Ryoma returned to Sakuno, grabbing his jacket from her.

“I didn’t think that Russia would be so cold this late in the season.” Sakuno said, thinking about the warmth she already missed in Japan. 

“Russia is up north. Of course it is cold.” Ryoma put his jacket on, waiting for Sakuno to put her own on.

Sakuno watched Ryoma slowly put his jacket on, running his hand through the pocket to find his phone. She had been feeling a building pressure since yesterday when he brought up her confession, and it was making her chest feel like it was going to explode. It had made a majority of her talk with Ryoma light and bashful, and she just wanted the pain to stop.

“Echizen Ryoma!” The man from yesterday came running over. Ryoma had said he was his first opponent and his name was Tomas Borg. He waved at Sakuno, who politely waved back with a smile. Ryoma scowled and told her to wait on the bench for him.

Sakuno watched them conversing, noticing an odd change in Tomas’s demeanor. He leaned towards Ryoma slightly, placing both his hands on Ryoma’s shoulders. They finished their talk with Tomas bending slightly and speaking into Ryoma’s ear.

Tomas dashed to Sakuno, quickly speaking in English. She tried to say she didn’t understand, Ryoma stopped him. He replied, where Tomas smiled, placed his hand on Sakuno’s head, patting it and then ran off.

Sakuno looked at Ryoma for an explanation, but he was massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Ne, Ryoma-kun. What did he say to me?” Ryoma sighed.

“He said you and him... were,” Ryoma paused, flushing, “you both were love rivals.” Sakuno’s hand raised to her mouth when she started laughing.

“He thought I was your what?!” She fitted over, trying to hold her stomach. “He wanted to be yours?”

“Hey, it isn’t funny. He tried to ask me on a date when he was talking to me earlier.” Ryoma said slowly. Sakuno began to double over, trying to catch her breath.

“Are you sure Ryoma-kun?” Sakuno panted out, between laboured breaths. She wiped a tear from her eye.

“It wasn’t that funny.” Ryoma scowled and Sakuno smiled. He grabbed her hand as they walked out of the court. “Anyways, you can’t have a love rival.” Ryoma continued under his breath. Sakuno felt her stomach uncoil up a little more, the pain in her chest strain a little less.

The rest of the matches went out without a hitch. Ryoma won all his matches, although there wasn’t much of a question about his domination. Ryoma quite out seeded some of the players here, mostly playing to hone up on his skills that he couldn’t get back home. Sakuno had been getting a bit bored sitting on the sidelines, asking for permission to do some self training at the wall outside the court.

“Don’t move,” Ryoma said. “You have an amazing ability to get lost, even if you move a meter.” It took a little convincing, but she was able to take her own tennis racquet out she secretly packed in his tennis duffle.

She played against a wall, feeling a bit rusty due to her cancelled match this week. She played against the wall a couple of players indicated they wanted to play a practice match with her. She nodded, eager for the practice.

She played well, a lot better than she thought she would have. They played a couple games, until their official matches started. Ryoma came to rest at the metal fence, waiting for her games to end. When they were finished, she bowed to show her gratitude, racing over to Ryoma to have him translate.

When they finished, Ryoma entered the court.

“What did I tell you?”

“To not move.” Sakuno felt bad. She’d not listen to Ryoma twice this weekend. She could have gotten seriously lost both times, and he was looking out for her.

“No,” Ryoma took his racquet, bumping it against her knees, “bend your knees.” Sakuno smiled and felt like the pain was fading. suggested they rally until Ryoma’s final match.

He agreed, and they began. It was the old familiar game, the one that they had abandoned months ago. This was much easier than dancing from yesterday. She moved, he responded. He pushed, she pushed back. They began to accumulate a crowd, wondering who was this girl keeping her own with Ryoma Echizen. 

Ryoma won by a lot, but not after Sakuno scored her second point ever. (Although, she did feel that Ryoma may have let her score.) Ryoma was breathing deeply, and Sakuno, already sitting down, handed his water bottle to him.

“Ah, we shouldn’t have played so rough. You have one more match.” She panted.

“No, it’s fine,” he wiped his brow against his wristband. They put their jackets on again.

“Ryoma-kun.” Sakuno finally caught her breath, remembering her resolve from the day before. It was a bit earlier than she planned, wanting to do it after the last match, but it just felt like the right time. “Why did we stop practicing tennis?”

He cocked his eyebrow, but his name was played on the intercom, indicating his last match was starting soon. He gestured to her that she should come with, grabbing his bag, and she grabbed his water bottle.

“What do you mean?” He asked while they walked towards the correct court. She bit her lip.

“You asked for compensation. Why did it come up all of a sudden?” She fidgeted her hands, playing with the edge of her jacket.

Ryoma sped up slightly, pulling his hat over his eyes. Sakuno saw his ears turn a light shade of his ears turn pink. 

“Ryoma-kun?” Sakuno knew she was just prodding now. She wanted him to say it to her properly. They entered the court, a sign indicating he should be on the court on the right. Entering the court, she sat down on the bench, taking Ryoma’s jacket and placing his bag next to her.

“Because you were about to start the regulars. You would have less time to practice with me.” She glanced up, seeing him turning his head to see the court. She opened the bag and set up her water bottle.

Ryoma watched her as she organized. She flushed a bit, realizing he wasn’t watching her organize, but watching her. She finished, finding him still staring at her. 

“What?” she stared back at him. She saw in the background the ball boys got situated. A tall man began to cross from the entrance making his way to the umpire chair.

He bent over, his hands rested on the wall behind her head. His face was too close, she could see the specks of brown in his golden eyes, knowing his eyes were analyzing her face the way she was analyzing his.

“I’m only going to say this once.” Ryoma’s eyes seemed to pierce hers, like he was looking right into her. “I wanted to spend time with you because I like you.” She shuddered and her nose brushed his. “Like you how you like me.” She saw his eyes wander from her eyes, to his lips. She recognized a voice in the background, calling for the match to start, or something.

He stared for a solid minute, and Sakuno realized right then, she’d been waiting too long for Ryoma to take initiative.

She was always waiting for him to make a move. For him to say something about their relationship. For him to start something.

What about her?

He kept looking at her lips, and she could feel his indecision as one of his hands slid from the wall onto her shoulder.

“Mada mada dane,” She whispered against his lips as grabbed his collar, pulling him forward and letting their lips connect.

It was nice, but awkward. She pursed her lips a little, and Ryoma responded. She kept hearing a voice in her mind, calling Ryoma’s name.

“Ryoma Echizen!” They broke apart, and Ryoma turned his head over his shoulder to see the umpire calling to him.

He ducked back down for a quick kiss.

“Why on earth did I not tell you this before? We could have been doing this for years.” Ryoma groaned. Sakuno chuckled, handing him his racquet.

“I knew.” She said under her breath and Ryoma double taked.

His eyes went wide, brows furrowing, and his mouth gurgling sound rather than coherent words. but Sakuno smiled and shooed him towards the baseline.

Didn’t she say she’d teach him a lesson?


	9. Chapter 9

Ryoma arrived at the local tennis courts on time, realizing his mistake only when he got there. He dropped his tennis bag near his feet, deciding to train against a wall. He had brought the same tennis bag as he brought to Russia, discovering a pink racquet.

“Ah! I thought I left it in there.” Ryoma turned, finding Sakuno behind him, toting a large bag. “Good Morning Ryoma-kun.” He gave her a nod, handing the pink racquet over.

“You’re early.” Ryoma said, checking his phone. She was extremely early for Sakuno standards, only 5 minutes late. He cocked his eyebrow, asking for an explanation.

“It’s not that,” she said, “I was just surprised this is where you wanted to meet here.” Her face flushed slightly. She fidgeted with the racquet in her hand, dropping her bag next to her feet with a clatter.

“Why is that?” Ryoma dipped in a little closer, his nose brushing hers. She shuddered, and Ryoma mentally patted himself on the back.

It had only been a week since they came back from Russia, but with their newfound _official_ status, he found he didn’t worry about Sakuno not having time for him. He watched her rubbing her fingers against her wrist, trying to avoid eye contact. She was flustered.

“I thought you still needed compensation,” she sputtered out. She leaned in just slightly, mostly likely unconsciously and Ryoma placed his hand on her wrist.

“I was thinking that we tried for some different type of compensation?” Tilting his head down, he captured her lips. She readily responded, while one of his hands dropped to her waist.

Since that first awkward kiss before his first kiss, Ryoma knew it wasn’t supposed to be so fumbling. After defeating his opponent in record time, he barely stuck around for congratulations, dragging Sakuno to a secluded area in order to perfect some... technique.

Her hand came to grasp his. His thumb came to rest on her wrist, and her other hand found its way to the back of his head. His fantasies were nothing compared to the real thing—just touching her in real life was enough for him to feel off balance.

They broke apart for air, panting deeply. Ryoma's hand on her waist curved around to her back to pull her in closer.

“Say it again,” Sakuno whispered slowly. Ryoma barely heard it, brushing his lips against hers.

“What?” he whispered back. His forehead leaned on to hers, and he tried to get his breath back.

“Say it again,” she said again. She pushed back into him, her hand grasped his tighter. Her other hand found his hair, accidentally pushing his hat off his head.

“I like you,” he whispered against her lips. She fell against his lips, a little fiercer than he had known. It surprised her that he could come this far, in public especially. It was relatively early in the morning, and it was a Saturday, but her desperation came through the kiss.

She pulled away, picking up his hat and dusting it off. She handed it to him, turning around to walk into the caged tennis courts. He cocked his eyebrow, realizing that she wasn’t planning on spending this being a make out practice (although he hadn’t decided whether he wanted.) 

He followed behind her, grabbing both bags. She turned when they entered, tilting her head, looking expectantly back at him. He dropped the bags at the bench.

“What?” he said. She rolled her eyes, stretching her arms above her head, rotating her torso. He tilted his head slightly, following her movement. 

“Laps?” She tilted her head again.

“Maybe later.” He pulled her again towards him again, connecting their lips again. She tried to push him away, but his hold was strong. She, _sooner or later_ , gave in, in which Ryoma gave himself another mental pat on the back. Ryoma disliked the restraint she had, but if he held her long enough, she’d always give in. 

Everytime.

At least she had some restraint. When she initiated their first kiss, he was a goner. He’d never be able to look at her and not feel like he just wanted to burst. He thought he was conscious of her after she confessed—now she moved and he’d stare.

It was really a problem that he really should look into.

Or not. 

Or never.

She pushed him away, and he scowled.

“We can’t be like this all the time,” she breathed deeply, trying to steady herself.

“Why not?” He was leaning back into her, her hand becoming weaker against his chest. Her eyes tried to not meet him. “That’s what great about being..,” he ducked down, “official.”

She dropped her arm from his chest, but pressed her lips to his cheek. She suddenly winked and took off running. He smirked as she began making laps outside the court, and he went to sit on the bench.

It felt like it had been a long time since he last sat on the bench, watching Sakuno run around the courts like she had many months ago. 

He can’t believe he thought the other side of the relationship continuum was something he didn’t want to explore. It was a million times better than he could have ever imagined. 

Why on earth did he think their situation was simple and uncomplicated?

For once he was the clueless one and Sakuno understood. Her small confession on knowing about his feelings had really made him question what he had been doing this entire time. It certainly cleared up why she thought he’d never understand.

Sakuno understanding him better than he understood himself? What?

Sakuno finally finished and walked into the court up to him.. Her hands placed on her hips she breathed deeply.

“Are you already tired?” Ryoma said. Sakuno gave him a look, holding her hand to chest.

“This is your fault,” she said between pants. “The girl’s team doesn’t train as hard as the boy’s team does. I wanted to play tennis, but someone,” she waved her hand at him, “decided that we should have spent the last two months learning non-tennis skills--”

“Let’s play,” he said as he picked up his racquet. 

Ryoma had thrown Sakuno a bone when they were playing in Russia, but she was out of his version of practice. It was clear to see now, but it was something easily fixable. He quickly won the game, grabbing his water bottle.

“Ne,” he called across the net and she perked up, “you need more practice. I’m adding another practice on Wednesdays.” She joined him with her water bottle.

“Is that really what you want?” she said slowly, tilting her head. Her eyes rested on his, almost questioning his determination. They fell to his lips for just a moment, but he still caught it.

“What do you mean?” he leaned in slightly, seeing her shrink. Her hand came up to his chest, pushing away with resolve. He leaned back in, reaching his hand to hers. Their hand interlocked, and he knew he had broken her resolution.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have time on Wednesday for another reason?” she said quietly, as she leaned into him. “Maybe something about spending time together.” Her hand clenched his.

“Nope.” he drawled. “You seriously need the practice.” He knocked his knees with her. “You even forgot to bend your knees.”

Her eyes widened, and she pushed him back, letting go of his hand.

“Ryoma-kun!” she threw her hands down, balling them in fists. He smirked, while she blushed.

He gave her a look and suggested they work on her service game. When she was finally able to serve with her original strength, the both sat down on the bench. Sakuno handed Ryoma a bento, placing her own in front of her.

“Ne, Ryoma-kun,” she questioned slowly, “do you think you learned something when I taught you?” She placed her chopsticks down on her lap, looking at him expectantly.

“Nope,” he said without hesitation. “Although you definitely improved my cooking technique.”

“Ryoma-kun!” She pushed him slightly, but he caught her hand, wrapping it in his own. She tilted her head to the side and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t spend sleepless nights just for you to learn absolutely nothing!”

“Of course you didn’t.” She pulled her hand away from his, pouting.

He smiled when she crossed her arms.

Maybe he did learn something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I hope you all had a good run reading through it. I did cheat and edit the chapters I posted today for grammar (which by the way, kudos to y'all for putting up with atrocious grammar. I'll be going through the 1 - 6 to redo grammar eventually).
> 
> I hope you all had fun reading this extremely, dusty piece -- and it brings you joy in how it brought me joy to write it (and uncovering it again!)
> 
> I don't imagine myself coming back to write this ship anytime soon, although that isn't a promise forever. I remember when Ryosaku got closer to canon, I realized that the manga did it better than I could really ever have done it. And I almost prefer the more ambiguous ending than definite ending.
> 
> Finally, I hope you all feel empowered and capable to write. I wrote this entire thing in high school, and I had no clue what I was doing while I wrote. I took a leap and ended up in the middle of a pretty cute story, and I know if you are interested in writing, but don't know where to start, this is a really good opportunity to flex your skills.
> 
> If you do want to wrote Ryosaku, but need guidance, please know you are able to reach out to me. I won't necessarily get back to you right away, but I will do it eventually. Otherwise, see you in the comments!


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